


Magicians undress ★

by HolyEmpress



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Nudity, cape discourse, controversial fashion opinions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9824921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyEmpress/pseuds/HolyEmpress
Summary: Tsumugi needs to take measurement.Art trade with @dreamofmemes





	

The videogame research club was like a safe place, a quiet hideout when his room was too troublesome to reach – or so he thought.

\- What do you wANT ? He hisses.

He doesn't need to turn to know it's him.

Because Tsumugi smells like magic and power stones. It's a little unnerving, he'd never hoped to pick that kind of power from Sora, and it only worked with this one – he couldn't notice Wataru's or Rei's perfume at all, for example. He finds that his senior looks a little worst than he's expected, and frankly, he expected nothing from it at all – but he's in ever more distress than usual, holding fabric in his arms, his glasses slightly tilted. That's probably why he stares straight into the void instead of talking in his direction.

He's somehow already fed up with him.

\- Shu-kun still doesn't want anything to do with our new outfits ! The idiot declares in a high-pitched voice (he damns him for being such a terrible drama queen), though he did promise to cut off my head if I mess them up. It wouldn't be too bad for Switch to become a two-members acts, right, Natsume-kun ? Sora-kun is so talented…

 

He can't take it anymore. He gets on his toes and adjusts Tsumugi's glasses, resisting the urge to slap him in the same go.

Everything about his unit member annoys him immensely. The constant anxiousness behind his words, his reddened cheeks, the incompetence - the fact that he's intruding is even worse. The allusion to Sora, as if their junior wouldn't be crushed after graduation already. There's terrible sentences running through his mind, insults that wouldn't get to that airhead anyway, and he can't quite decide what to say, unless it becomes clear.

\- Shut UP.

\- A-alright… he answers, putting his stack of fabric on the main table without permission.

_You really don't listen, do you,_ oh, he wants to rip his head off so much, but unlike the dark-haired fool he'd made the mistake to take in, he knew without its third angle, Switch's lightning bolt was nothing but a straight line. Tsumugi was necessary.

\- I need measurements for our next outfits, he whines… you've grown too much since last time.

It's a lie. He never grew unless the stars where aligned just right and his mom said the incantation. It had been the same since he'd been two.

\- How amateur of you, Shu nii-san never had to…

He hopes Tsumugi's not observant enough to notice him stopping mid-sentence, forgetting his characteristic magic, just fondly reminiscing on their old matching outfits. It was the best thing he'd ever worn by far, full of Shu's craft and love, a beautiful mesh of colors and shine, perfect details ; he'd gotten so much praise the first time he'd put it on, _you're perfect,_ and he'd admired the little touches of personnalization on his own afterwards, from the pentagram on the bow to the gloves, white as snow. It was a masterpiece to his size, and he'd never have to suffer through measurements to get it.

Tsumugi wouldn't make something half as good. He'd oblige to his demand, however, for Switch.

\- Lock the dOOR, he groans as he starts to take off his uniform, taking the keys out of his pocket.

He doesn't take off his necklace until he hears the characteristic clicking.

Tsumugi gets stuck in his measuring tape twice before even beginning to look like he has some sense of what he's supposed to do. It's incredibly cold in the videogame research room, even more with his protective layers off. Fabric was the first protective charm mankind had ever found out about, after all.

He's not afraid to show himself to Tsumugi like this. Off course not – for the many classes he'd skipped, he was still a professional idol, unphased by admiration. His body was frail, thin and pale like moonlight, spotless – a perfect contrast to Sora's tan and Tsumugi's tall build. He loved the way they looked on stage – bewitching the audience through light and contrast.

He liked for them to be arranged like the chemicals of a perfect potion.

\- You didn't even run your plans through me first, how foolish, senPAI, he comments.

\- S-sorry Natsume-kun !

He brushes against his hair first, touching up on it, taking measurements messily – nobody needed to know how long his left strands were, did they ? He's got a little notebook out – with a cute sheep pattern, _ridiculous –_ assorted with a pretty pink pen. He had terrible taste in stationnary, in everything, really, and this outfit was shaping out to be a catastrophe.

\- We need a hoodie, off course, that's our look…

He wants to contradict him just for the sake of it, but Tsumugi's fingers are caressing his neck, and he's absolutly right, hoodies were their characteristics look.

\- The vest is gonna be very complicated, ah… I'm considering two different fabric, and it will cross right over here, or maybe there…

His hands are all over him. Tsumugi is shameless, rolling that tape in every places he seems to find. His nose brushes against his chest when he bends, his bad vision making it hard for him to read the tiny numbers. Not that he cares so much for intimate contact, or having this tall imbecile all over him.

He's too busy rambling to notice just how invasive his palms are getting.

\- Sora's gonna have a short, I think I will get pants, and I was thinking of mid-length shorts over leggings for you ? That's a modern, young look, right ? The shorts should stop … there…

He won't dare – he's not _that dumb –_ but Tsumugi touches his tights and he wants to scream, yell, and draw a pentagram on the floor right now to send him to another realm all at once. He groans, but Tsumugi's focus shifts so fast he doesn't have enough time to decide where to hit him.

His eyes are twitching considerably but he's not sweating yet.

\- Then I consider tying some kind of loose neon green fabric around the waist ? I know the former outfit had it too, but I m-messed it up a little…

He hopes he's not gonna go at it again, but if there's one thing he'd learned from Tsumugi, it's that a fool will attempt anything – and indeed, Tsumugi's big, cold hands place the measuring tape around his waist with clumsy motions. _Don't touch my ASS_ is a sentence he doesn't wish to hear out loud, even from himself. He's also gonna kick him in the nuts as payback _later,_ when he won't be the vulnerable one dressed only in boxers.

It's not because his senior is looking excitable and oblivious and kinda cute, noting down his measurements happily with little care for the positions he puts himself in.

\- Also I will try making fingerless gloves !! The pattern I found in Shu-kun's drawer is really good, with clear instructions, but it's not good if they don't fit perfectly, right ? He declares, beaming.

Characteristic of an imbecile.

Tsumugi begins to examine his finger one by one.

 

He closes his hands around Tsumugi's.

He could examine his body all he wanted, rambling about his plans for all of their outfits until graduation as much as he desired. This much he didn't mind, even if it took time away from his alchemy experiments and videogame afternoons with Sora. But this, pretending he didn't care as he was treated to such a priviledge as to touch the hands of magicians – was truly annoying. He squeezes his palm, then uses his free hand to unbutton his senior's vest.

\- Who's gonna take your measurements, imbeciLE ?

\- But I don't want you to see me… see me…

He frowns, exasperated.

\- I don't want to see you eiTHER.

That's it, he's had enough – his aim is perfect when he kicks Tsumugi where it hurts the most. His senior obliges within the next minute, and he cringes when he realizes his boxers have the cheesiest little heart pattern he could have ever imagined in all the history of sorcellery.

He's too damn tall. He notes down his measurement and skips the one for the head – he can figure it out on his own, but as he works on it, he tries to imagine how the final product is gonna look.

He remembers all too well how Tsumugi looked in fine's old uniform last year. It makes his stomach churns.

\- I want a caPE, he pouts.

\- A c-cape ? Again ?

_I know you suck at making them._

He traces a shape on Tsumugi's back, and the huge idiot shivers. He's gonna have to remember it just by the feel of it – how dreadful for someone who only relied on patterns. On predicted outcome, horoscopes, stone powers and coffee reading ; while he was one for explosions and outbursts.

Switch needed the both of them.

\- Also custom sneakers. That's our _look_ , senPAI.

He steps on his naked feets to mark his words. Tsumugi whines. _Serves you right._ His body is sweaty, spelling the word discomfort through every pore, but somehow, he thinks this is going to become a fond memory. It could be pleasant to let these kind of accidents happen.

\- You better not disappoint ME, he concludes, noting down a few curses on his little notebook for good measures.

They get dressed together – it's late, really, and it's been too much and too little as well. He even begins to wonder if Tsumugi, for all the stepping on he'd endured from Tenshouin, had lost all feelings of attachement, of love. He could have done so much more.

He was a splendid magician, after all.

 


End file.
